


the light that gig saw

by fangirl_squee



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 14:29:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,846
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11693610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirl_squee/pseuds/fangirl_squee
Summary: The mesh on Quire works pretty much the same as the mesh of the fleet does. Gig finds a home in it.





	the light that gig saw

**Author's Note:**

> This will probably be non-canonical as soon as the next planet party episode comes out.
> 
> Thanks to Maddie for betaing!!!! And for indulging me in talking to them about Gig for an hour.

The morning after his first broadcast, Gig wakes up early, the sun not quite yet risen over the distant rocky mountains. He can hear the clinking of plates from the kitchen, Jane’s voice low as she talks to Surge, and the now-familiar sound of Echo going through their morning exercises with the sword. Gig sighs and rolls over. Grand’s not up yet. He’s only late if Grand’s already up.

 

There’s a soft  _ ping _ sound, a noise Gig hasn’t heard for weeks. His eyes snap open. The feed, not active since they dropped out of range with the rest of the fleet, jumps in front of his eyes.

 

He has messages. A  _ lot _ of messages.

 

He’s used to that of course, he wouldn’t have gotten on this mission if he didn’t have a large subscriber base behind him. Despite how delighted he is at the communication from home, he can’t shake how odd it is that they’ve come through. It’s even odder that he doesn’t recognise any of the screen names. Some of the characters are unfamiliar to even his cyber eye’s database.

 

He opens the first message.

 

_ Who are you? How did you project like that? Are you part of the Doyen’s team? _

 

Gig frowns, and check the location data attached to the message. It’s coming from another location on the planet. He checks the location data again. And then a third time. And then he pulls a report on all the location data for all the messages he has.

 

They’re  _ all _ coming from elsewhere on the planet.

 

He takes a deep breath in, and slowly lets it out again.

 

Even’s voice joins the low murmur from the kitchen. The  _ swish _ of Echo’s sword through the air continues it’s rhythmic pace outside.

 

Gig takes another deep breath, and starts to type his reply. After all, they’re there to meet to local populations, form helpful alliances. What better way to do that than through audience Q and A?

 

He writes back to all of them. He’s very fast at it from long practise, and he’s not sure when he’ll get another chance. Most of them ask similar questions - where he’s from, how he was able to project into their brain. Some ask about Grand and Even’s mech, and Gig tries to answer those as best he can. Some of them ask him to pass on something complimentary to Echo and Gig promises to do so, making a list in a separate document the way he used to compile feedback about guest co-hosts.

 

He hums to himself a little as he sits up, stretching his arms over his head as he does one last check for new messages. It feels like the most normal morning he’s had for a while. It feels like a good sign.

 

\--

 

They’ve been travelling for hours. The past twenty minutes has been entirely walking uphill in silence, the most recent Grand vs Echo argument erupting in more hurtful words than was probably necessary before Gig or Even could intervene. Gig’s not really sure how to properly mediate between them yet. It’s not something they really covered during training. It's hard to do conflict resolution when the two sides won't admit there's a conflict. 

 

It’s a shame they’re not talking - Gig would really like to hear what they both have to say about the view as they make it over the final hill out of the valley. He pans the camera around, trying to capture the feeling as he looks back out over where they’ve come.

 

_ Ping _ .

 

Gig starts a little in surprise, earning him a sidelong look from Echo before they look back at the road ahead.

 

He opens up the messages, trying to keep one eye on the path while he reads with the other.

 

_ You’re really from off-world? Like, seriously? You’re not just fucking with me? _

 

_ divines r u srs arent they made up _

 

_ How Long Are You Here For? Where Will You Go Next? _

 

_ you used to monitor health and safety and now you’re like, what, a space explorer? how do you get THAT job? _

 

Gig manages to turn his laugh into a cough. He puts a hand on the cart while he checks the message so he won’t lag behind. A few new messages come in while he’s responding, and it makes the rest of their travel time fly by. He barely feels the tiredness in his legs, going so far as to offer to help Even find firewood for the night.

 

“I don’t know that this will make for an interesting cut in your next stream,” says Even, as they carry the wood back to their campsite, “but I appreciate the help.”

 

“Hey, no problem, this kind of stuff’s easier with more people,” says Gig, “and don’t sell yourself so short. People love this kind of real-time camping sim stuff.”

 

The corners of Even’s eyes crinkle up as he smiles. “Do they?”

 

“Oh sure,” says Gig, “Just ask Grand, he used to watch them all the time.”

 

Even snorts. “That sounds about right.”

 

“He was trying to be prepared,” says Gig.

 

Even sighs. “I know. But sometimes I think things would go a little smoother if he had... prepared a little less.”

 

Gig hums, partially in agreement and partially to try and stay neutral. It’s not that he doesn’t understand how Grand’s certainty in his own statements can sometimes be a little much, but Gig doesn’t want to  _ discourage _ that. Maybe if Grand  _ felt _ a little surer of himself, he wouldn’t feel the need to remind them all the time. It’s not his place to share something like that about Grand though. Gig’s sure that Even will figure it out. He’s spent quite a bit of time with Grand already. 

 

Echo and Grand are seated on opposite sides of the unlit campfire when they get back to the campsite. Echo is going over their sword, polishing the metal so it gleams in the dying light. Grand is frowning down at his feet. Gig can see Even press his lips together out of the corner of his eye.

 

“Hey Grand,” says Gig, keeping his voice light. “Can you help me light the fire?”

 

Grand looks up. “What?”

 

“Can you help me light the campfire?” repeats Gig. “You know I’m no good at this stuff.”

 

Grand’s shoulder straighten. “Sure.”

 

Grand haphazardly drops sticks into the fire pit. When he turns to pick up his lighter, Gig straightens a few of them. He’s maybe watched a few of those how-to videos himself.

 

Even talks softly to Echo for a moment, and they whisper something back. Their tone is as sharp as ever, but they put their sword away and stop looking like they’re about to strangle Grand, so Gig figures that’s something.

 

Grand hold his hands out over the fire, rubbing them together. “There, easy.”

 

“Thanks,” says Gig.

 

“No problem,” says Grand. “I know you’re not great with this real life stuff.”

 

Gig’s toes curl in his boots, but he’s careful to keep the smile on his face. “Yeah, that’s me.”

 

That night Gig dreams of being home on Gumption’s Gambit, swinging down the outside of the ship and he watches two people work together to weld the panels back into place. When he wakes up he swears he can still taste the recycled air, metallic and dry.

 

\--

 

Gig’s still getting messages from people. He hasn't told the others - it feels more like a weird brag than anything they really need to know about. He’s not  _ hiding _ the messages from them, not exactly, but he’s not in a rush to tell them either. He doesn’t want to make Echo feel like he’s poking at their sore spots, and he’s sure Grand would insist that communication in the mesh doesn’t count as  _ real _ first contact. Even, with his bond with the Twilight Mirage, might have some frame of reference for it that way, but Gig’s not about to compare the mesh to a religious experience. 

 

He assumed most of the messages would drop off anyway, since he can’t upload anything new, but if anything it’s only made people  _ more _ curious.

 

_ hey, _ says one message _ , my friend sent me your info, are you really the guy who like, bulk-uploaded into everyone’s head? are you really from off-planet? or is my friend just messing with me? _

 

_ I’m really from off-planet and it was really me that did that _ , Gig replies,  _ sorry, I didn’t realise I was broadcasting down here. I normally ask for permission before I upload into other people’s heads. _

 

_ oh, whoa, for real? can i ask you something _

 

_ Sure! _

 

_ i have like, a hundred questions _

 

Gig presses his lips together, looking away to hide his expression from the others.

 

_ Go ahead, hopefully I can give a hundred answers. _

 

_ cool, okay, like - how big of a group is it? is it just like, your family or what? _

 

Gig gives a sidelong look at the others. Grand is sitting on the back of the trolley, his legs swinging back and forth as it moves forward. Even is on one side, chatting with Grand about his mech - Grand, as always, has a hundred ideas for improvements. Echo is a little way ahead of them, their hand on their sword hilt and their shoulders tense over the slow pace the trolley sets.

 

_ It’s a small group, we’re scouts of a sort. A few of us had met previously, and we got to know each other a bit during training but I don’t think we’re anything like family just yet. But maybe by the end of this it'll feel different.  _

 

_ so you were just, like assigned together?  _

 

Gig's part-way through his response when they send a follow up. 

 

_ i just got assigned to work with this group i don't really know too, we start tomorrow. any tips on working with strangers?  _

 

Ahead of him, Echo has slowed down to talk to Even. Grand falls silent as they approach, fiddling with his tablet nervously. Echo's posture is relaxed enough when talking to Even, but they don't look at Grand at all. Gig sighs quietly. 

 

_ I suppose it would be the same as my advice for working with anyone - every group of people is different, and this can cause issues even if the group has worked together before. Don't ignore those differences, but don't poke at them either. You can learn something from everyone, even if it's by example. And good luck on your new job!! Let me know how everything goes with it if you can _

 

_ thanks man, i will. good luck on your end too _

 

Gig smiles up at the clear blue sky. He's missed talking to people like this. 

 

He bites the inside of his cheek. Maybe… maybe there's no reason for him to miss it. He doesn't have the juice to send out another video, but there's more than one way to connect.

 

He selects all the most recent contacts, all the people who've sent his questions since the broadcast. 

 

_ Hey guys, Gig here! Hope you don't mind me reaching out like this again. I still don't know when I'll be doing another broadcast, but I just wanted to let you guys know that you can send questions my way any time ago about anything - I love hearing from you guys and it's been keeping me company out here on the road!  _

 

Everything is quiet for a few minutes. Maybe no one has any other questions, maybe the people here planetside have a wildly different relationship to the mesh, maybe they've just been sending in questions out of politeness--

 

_ Ping. Ping. Ping. Ping ping ping.  _

 

Gig let's out a sharp laugh into the quiet air. The others turn to look at him. 

 

“Sorry,” says Gig, “sorry, I just, um, thought of something good to add into the next broadcast.”

 

Grand sighs. “You should really try to be more present in the moment.”

 

“I know,” says Gig, “sorry.”

 

_ Ping ping ping. _

 

He can't stop smiling. 

 

\--

 

Echo sits down carefully next to Gig when they stop to place the node. Gig looks up at them from where he's lying on the grass, hands under his head. Behind them, Even and Grand stand over the node, watching it drill deep into the ground. 

 

“Alright?” says Echo. 

 

“Yeah, you know, just trying to be  _ in the moment. _ ”

 

Gig means for it to be a joke, but Echo frowns. 

 

“You shouldn't let him say shit like that to you, let alone apologise to him for it,” says Echo. 

 

“It's fine, Grand's not the first person to tell me I'm too hooked in,” says Gig. “He's just … very worried about people's authentic self.”

 

Echo snorts. “Yeah. Tell me about it.”

 

Gig hesitates for a moment. “He really looks up to you for it, you know.”

 

“Not for anything I did on purpose,” says Echo. “He's not any different than people who hate me for not having any nanos.”

 

Gig lifts himself up on his elbows. “It's hard to picture anyone hating you. I mean, I know it happens, but I can't imagine anyone talking to you and not seeing...” 

 

He trails off. He knows how Echo got assigned to their mission, they all do. Echo is prickly and sharp tongued and described in their file as a “dangerous criminal influence”. 

 

But still.

 

Echo gives him a sidelong look. “I sort of thought  _ you  _ might be one of those people.”

 

“Me? I--really?”

 

“Because you're, you know, ultra hooked up,” says Echo, gesturing to his eye, “and I'm… very not.”

 

“I mean, sure, I can't imagine living without the tech I have and if you tried to take it away from me I’d probably, like, die, but who am I to say the same for you,” says Gig, “my way might be less authentic, but it's working okay for me. And your way’s probably working okay for you too.”

 

Echo looks down at them, the sun framed behind their bright blue hair. “I think your way is authentic enough for you.”

 

Gig smiles. “Thanks.”

 

They watch Grand and Even for a moment in silence as they catalogue the node’s progress. 

 

“Would you really die if someone took out your tech?” says Echo. 

 

Gig tilts his head to the side. “I don't know. I really hope I don't have to find out though.”

 

“That's what I'm here for,” says Echo, “bodyguard services, remember?”

 

Gig laughs. “Right.”

 

Echo grins at him. It's the first time Gig's seen them smile all trip. He's not entirely sure what  _ in the moment  _ is supposed to feel like, but he thinks it might feel like this. 

 

\--

 

Gig takes first watch, leaning back against the dusty white bark of a tree to look up at the starlight through the branches. Everything is still, the only sound coming from Grand’s faint snores.

 

It’s very different to Gumption’s Gambit. It was always going to be, of course, a planet of twisting corridors and repatched metal would never have been chosen to rehouse the remaining fleet population. And Gig can certainly appreciate the wide open space around and above him, the bright colours of the plants and animals they’ve seen, the warm sun high overhead.

 

But still. Everyone gets a little homesick sometimes.

 

Gig closes his eyes, and thinks about his apartment, with its domed windows and too-low shower, and a neighbour who always played their music a touch too loud through staticy speakers. If he concentrates, he can replay it perfectly in his own mind, the way the muffled sound of static modulated between tracks.

 

On Quire, that noise is replaced by the sound of bird, or wind through the trees, or the sigh the Echo gives before they roll over before they fall asleep.

 

_ Ping _ .

 

Gig opens his eyes and grins up at the branches of the trees. Of course, there are some sounds of home he doesn’t have to try to recreate for himself.

 

\--

 

It's the first settlement they've been through that was more than a handful of houses and an outpost. Echo was in favour of taking the road around it and skipping it entirely, which Gig gets - more new people means more new factors to watch for - but they were outvoted. Even’s right in that taking the road around adds about half a day to their journey, Grand's excited about seeing the architecture, and Gig, well, Gig's always happy to meet new people. Even if those people might potentially be dangerous. 

 

Grand has his tablet out immediately, making them stop so he can sketch out the shape of a balcony or the joint of an unfamiliar piece of machinery. Gig keeps ahold of the back of his jacket, tugging him forward when the others start getting too restless.

 

“So much for cutting down travel time,” mutters Echo. 

 

“We can pick up supplies while we're here too,” says Even. 

 

“We have enough supplies,” says Echo. 

 

“We can get supplies that aren't ration bars,” says Even. 

 

“Oh,  _ please  _ can we do that?” says Gig.

 

“Fine,” says Echo. 

 

Gig claps his hands together excitedly, then quickly reaches out to grab Grand's shoulder before he wanders away. 

 

“But there's--”

 

“It'll just have to remain a mystery,” says Gig, “we're getting real food.”

 

Grand perks up at that. “Oh! Where from?”

 

“Uhhh…”

 

Gig looks around.  _ Laish’s General Store: Best Prices Guaranteed.  _ The name sounds familiar, so he points to it. 

 

“How about there?”

 

Echo shrugs. “Sure, fine.”

 

There’s a buzzer as they enter the store and someone pokes their head out from the little room behind the worn wooden counter. Their long, wispy blonde hair is wound into a bun high on their head. The apron they’re wearing looks like it’s seen better days, the patches not  _ quite _ colour-matched and singed along the bottom. 

 

Gig feels at home  _ immediately _ .

 

“What can I get you folks?”

 

“We’re looking for some camping-type food,” says Gig, “do you have anything like that that  _ isn’t _ in ration bar form?”

 

They blink at him, leaning forward like they’re taking a closer look at him. Behind him, Echo puts a hand on their sword hilt.

 

“We do,” the person behind the counter says slowly, “this is kind of a weird question if the answer’s no, but - are you Gig Kep-hart?”

 

“I am!” Gig grins, stepping forward. 

 

Even puts a hand out like he’s trying to stop Gig from moving so Gig quickly takes another step, bringing him right in front of the counter.

 

Gig flicks through past messages. Of course. Laish was their mother’s name, but their name was--

 

“And you must be Tate!” says Gig brightly, “How’s that new hire working out?”

 

“Oh much better, much better,” says Tate, leaning forward like they’re old friends, “you were right about him having a better eye for the mechanical than for people, but I think he’s getting into the rhythm of it now.”

 

Gig nods, humming in agreement. Behind him Even clears his throat.

 

“Oh! Right” says Gig, “Guys, this is Tate - Tate, I’m sure you remember my friends from the stream.”

 

“I surely do,” says Tate, “that was quite a mech.”

 

“Bet Nam really liked that part of it,” says Gig.

 

Tate laughs. “He did, he did. He’ll be sorry to have missed you.”

 

“Well, hopefully I can get another stream up, show everyone more of Grand’s fine work,” says Gig.

 

“But to do that, we really need to be moving along,” says Echo.

 

“Of course! Camp out food, got just the thing,” says Tate.

 

“Now the thing is,” says Gig, “we don’t really have any kind of, um, what you would think of as money, so we can’t really--”

 

“That one’s on me,” says Tate, “You just get that stream up on the double, tell people you had a real good deal at Laish’s, and we’ll call it square.”

 

“Oh wow, that’s great,” says Gig, “Isn’t that great you guys? Tate, you’re the best and I swear I absolutely will say that on stream.”

 

Tate laughs, disappearing into the back to get their food.

 

“What was  _ that _ ?” whispers Grand.

 

“They have the mesh here too,” says Gig, “and some people happen to actually  _ like _ my broadcasts.”

 

Tate bustles back out with a large package wrapped in white cloth.

 

“My speciality,” says Tate.

 

“Tate,” says Gig, putting a hand over theirs, “I’m honoured. Thank you.”

 

Tate flushes faintly, hands fluttering. “Well. I always like to do deals for friends.”

 

Gig grins. “Then I’m glad we’re friends.”

 

Even manages to herd them all out of the store. Gig holds the food, trying to remember what Tate said their speciality was. Some kind of big root vegetable, he thinks. The white cloth it’s wrapped in is nice too, good for bandages or maybe even enough for a crop top for Echo. Although maybe they wouldn’t like that - some people on other ships could get so weird about recycled materials for clothing, and--

 

Grand’s staring at him.

 

Gig shifts the food to his hip. “What?”

 

“I get how they knew about  _ you _ ,” says Grand slowly, “but how did  _ you _ know about  _ them _ ?”

 

“That’s a good question actually,” says Echo.

 

“Thanks!” says Grand.

 

“After the broadcast people sent in messages, regular audience Q and A stuff,” says Gig.

 

“And the question Tate sent in was about their employee?” says Echo, raising an eyebrow at him.

 

“Well, no,” says Gig, “I told people they could send in other questions, and then they sent in that question. I mean, we were sent here to make sure we weren’t going to mess up people’s lives by living here, and what better way to do that than to find out about their regular lives?”

 

Grand looks at Echo. Echo looks at Even. After a moment, Even shrugs.

 

“As long as you doing it is bringing down trouble or slowing us down too much it’s probably fine,” says Even, “and it  _ did _ just get us a non-ration bar dinner.” He looks curiously at the parcel in Gig’s arms. “What is it anyway?”

 

“It’s sort of like a yam, with Tate’s mother’s seasoning recipe,” says Gig.

 

“That sounds so much better than ration bars,” says Grand, “how soon can we have dinner?”

 

“We have to get through this town first,” says Echo.

 

And they’re off, bickering about fastest routes, with Even gently interjecting to tease Grand about wanting to stop every five minute to sketch some part of the town.

 

“Don’t worry about it,” says Gig, slinging an arm around Grand’s shoulders, “I’m recording it all anyway. I’ll play the footage back for you later. I know it's not as good as the real thing, but…”

 

“No, that's-- thanks,” says Grand, putting his tablet away. 

 

They walk behind Even and Echo with the trolley. Grands points out building details for Gig to capture, and Gig dutifully turns his eye towards it, circuitry humming as he zooms in. 

 

In front of them, Echo startles a laugh out of Even, and they grin up at him. Grand leans his head against Gig’s shoulder a little, a warm and solid weight, and Gig smiles.

 

He’s really starting to like it here.

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi: mariusperkins


End file.
